


Lights, Camera, Cowboy

by interrobangman



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Technically porn IS the plot (literally)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7909798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interrobangman/pseuds/interrobangman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a down on his luck gunslinger can’t scrape enough money together to buy a drink, what else was McCree supposed to do? </p><p>Or alternatively, McCree breaks into the porn industry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights, Camera, Cowboy

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted from my tumblr, edited slightly to fit in-universe characters, but otherwise the same

Was he seriously going to go through with this? The tiny voice of reason he often drowned out in the back of his head told him not to, yet here he was, waiting in a small but nicely furnished lobby. At least the pay was good and besides, he really needed the money. Recently, his contacts had started drying up and the last job ended not too well. If you consider his package detonating suddenly and just managing to escape a horde of pursuers “not too well”.

Still, this was a one-time thing, so if it turned out he wasn’t as good as he thought, he didn’t have to come back. It beat scrounging around for someone willing to pay him to put a bullet through something. And it was definitely better than going through every ad in the classifieds. Hell, he’d even gone through the trouble of trying jobs that wouldn’t raise a red flag. But not one call-back came his way. Maybe he shouldn’t have used his real name. He was a wanted man after all. An actual resume would have helped too.

After three days of trying to convince the guy on the other end of the phone, he decided to stop getting fed up and start getting piss drunk. He’d been about half a bottle of bourbon in when he flipped the newspaper around, grumbling angry nothings at the paper when his eyes fell upon the ad. Working his way to becoming three sheets to the wind, he thought ‘fuck it’ and went for it.

One email with a few hastily taken pictures taken later, he got an answer that didn’t begin with “Dear sir, we regret to inform you,” and instantly accepted. He’d like to think that for once, his mug had actually gotten him somewhere other than instantly recognised. Well, that and the fact that he used a fake name this time.

Thinking back on it now, he should have been a little wary of putting himself out there, what with the long list of people still trying to get him six feet under. But he’d seen the dollar sign followed by four figures and had been blind to any risk. His mind had immediately gone to how he’d finally be able to afford to live again, after paying for his shithole apartment of course. Maybe he’d finally be able to pick up a smoke that was actually worth a damn.

And then he’d inevitably sobered up and he started to realise what a goddamn bad idea this was. He tried to reason with himself. He was strong and a helluva shot, but nobody was looking for a strong arm or a semi-capable bodyguard. If his usual skills couldn’t pull him through, there wasn’t a whole lot else he could do. 

But a porno, of all things? Technically, it was a solo flick, but still. What in the hell was he thinking? He’d been trying to lay low for Chrissakes and now he was about to strip down and put himself, all of himself, on the internet for everyone to see. But he couldn’t just turn around and bail. If there was one thing his father beat into him before disappearing into the night, it was to always keep a promise made.

Well, there was also the fact that he’d already signed a legally binding contract so he couldn’t just bow out now anyway if he wanted to.

“You really are a cowboy,” someone said quietly. McCree glanced up, taking in the short, plump woman suddenly standing in the room. Hair cut short and wearing a sleek skirt and half open blouse, the woman openly gawked for a moment before collecting herself and coming over.

“Well ain’t you just a tiny little thing,” he drawled, amused as he shook her hand. Standing in front of her now, she barely came up to his chest, only slightly taller than most preteens. He had to admit that there was nothing childlike about her figure though; she filled out her shirt quite well and he couldn’t help but notice her ample cleavage.

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted, with a tight smile. Clearly her height was a sore spot. “Mr. Eastwood, right? I could hardly imagine you being anyone else given the getup.”

He faltered, slipping a quick smile on his face. He’d forgotten about the fake name he’d used. It was as clichéd as a whore sweating in church, and just as near sacrilegious, but it was the first thing he’d come up with. “Yeah, that’s me. Living, breathing, walking stereotype and all.”

“Mei-Ling Zhou, proprietor of Zhou Productions. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His face paled. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed by the goddamn owner and here he was, making an ass of himself. His mama would slap him now if she could. She would have slapped him for being in a porno anyway, but this warranted a second smack followed by an hour long talking to.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he backpedalled. “I swear my mama raised me better than that. And the pleasure’s mine, I assure you.”

“Well bless your heart,” she said cheerily, earning a chuckle from him. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. And call me Mei, none of that ma’am stuff. You’re old enough to be my father.”

“Hey now, I’m not that old,” he joked. She cocked her head at him, giving him a once over.

“Maybe not, but I’m not as old as you think either. Come on; let’s take this to my office.”

\---

He was mildly disappointed; he’d half expected there to be half naked people taking breaks in bathrobes and ridiculously corny sets all over the place. Instead there was a large open area to the left, sectioned off by walls and a few offices to the right. Once inside a glass walled room at the back, she called for a cameraman and went to sit behind the desk.

“Go ahead and get yourself comfortable,” she said easily, watching him. When he stood awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure of what to do, she frowned. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just…” he huffed and shrugged. “I ain’t never done something like this before.”

Her eyes widened. “When you said you were new to this, I thought you meant doing a solo scene.”

At a loss for words, he looked away, hands on his hips. The cameraman came in then, a short dark skinned man with dreadlocks and an obnoxiously green outfit. His mouth was open, ready to run when he noticed McCree and stopped abruptly. “I didn’t know we were doing a Western themed shoot today. Nice costume, dude.”

“Boy, this is how I dress normally,” McCree grumbled. “Ain’t no costume.”

“Focus, both of you,” Mei said, snapping her fingers. They quieted down while she thought for a moment. “Change of plans, Lúcio. I’ll be taking over, give me the camera.”

“You sure you can handle it? It’s pretty heavy,” he asked. She stared at him and he sighed, setting the camera down. “Right, stupid question. You’re the bosslady. Just make sure you don’t drop my baby, alright?”

“I’ll buy you a new one if I do,” she assured him. He left and she flicked a switch, the glass around them diffusing, blocking out the rest of the studio. She turned around, hands behind her back as she looked McCree up and down.

“Have you ever masturbated for someone before?”

Well, she was direct. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“But you have masturbated before?” He gave her a wry look. “Of course you have. Well, this isn’t any different from any of those other times. The only difference is… I will be filming it.”

“That’s quite a difference if you ask me.”

She rolled her shoulders. “If you’re still not comfortable with this, you can go. I won’t hold it against you. It’s not for everyone.”

He closed his eyes, brows furrowed as he played tug o’ war with his conscience. “No, I can do this. What do you want me to do?”

“You can start by getting naked.”

There was nothing left other than to get on with it, so he chucked his hat and removed his sarape. Next came his vest, then boots, the spurs jingling as he set them aside. The entire time she was watching him quietly and he paused, shirt half unbuttoned. Confused, she looked him in the eye.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, shaking himself out of it. Shirt unbuttoned, he pulled it off and nearly grimaced, conscious of the very evident scars that he’d collected over the years. Had he been looking at Mei, he would have noticed her gaze linger on his chest, following the dusting of hair down to his navel and below.

Hands on his belt, he hesitated. There wasn’t a whole lot left keeping him covered now, this was likely his last chance to take her out and leave.

“Wait,” Mei said, holding up a hand. “Don’t go any further.”

“But I haven’t even got my pants off.”

“That’s the point. Let’s make it a scene. Go sit on the couch, keep the shirt off and your pants unbuttoned. And put the hat back on, makes you look roguish.” 

He did as she asked, slung his pants low at his hips, showing even more skin and put his hat back on, dipping it low over his face. He eased back into the couch, hands on his thighs as she picked up the camera. He licked his lips, finding them suddenly dry as she counted down.

She gave him the signal and he stared into the camera like a deer in the headlights, frozen. After a few tense minutes of him trying to keep his breathing steady, he cursed and got to his feet, running his hands through his hair.

“No need to get worked up, just relax.”

They tried again, and once more he froze up. He had no idea how she expected him to get hard, never mind finish when he couldn’t even get started. Setting the camera down, she tapped a finger against its case before coming over to him.

“Would you be more comfortable if I were to… lend a hand?” she asked suddenly. At his stunned silence, she blushed. “If you would prefer, we can bring up some videos instead.”

“It’s not that, Miss Zhao, I assure you,” he stammered. “You’re fine, I just… it’s all of this.”

She looked relieved. “I understand, it can be quite intimidating. But if you still want to do this, we need to get you past your stage fright.”

“I know,” he grumbled heavily, looking away. “I will, I need to.” The money, his conscience, his nerves battle one another in his head, distracting him as Mei sat down next to him. When a hand dropped to his thigh, his mind went blank and he stared at her reddening face.

“You seem convinced, so, if you’re sure,” she murmured, voice dropping low as she fiddled with a button on her blouse, “then allow me to help.”

He watched as she revealed a bit more skin with each popped button, full breasts coming into view. He caught a peek of navy blue lace and his breath hitched when he saw it was almost sheer. She leaned in close, close enough to smell her perfume. Her eyes were down, unable to look at him. “You know, I don’t usually do this. But I’ll make an exception for you, cowboy.”

He watched her flush travel down her neck as her hand reached the final button, revealing a soft stomach. She pushed the fabric back, baring her chest to him. He could see her nipples stiffen and poke through her bra as her hands dropped to touch his thigh. McCree felt himself stiffen as she shuffled slightly, exposing a shoulder, a slight gasp escaping his lips.

She smiled then, eyeing the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I think you’re ready.”

He bit back a groan as she lifted away and went back to other side of the room. She paused for a moment, frowning as she bit her lip before deciding to remove her shirt completely. Hefting the camera, she turned around, saw his chest rise and fall rapidly, the hooded expression on his face and the ache between his legs and nodded.

“Eyes on me,” she said, forcing him to look at her as she switched the camera on. After a moment of filming his breathing, she urged him on with a hand. He cast his glance downward, at the outline of his cock through his pants and brought a hand to it, rubbing up and down the length with slow strokes. He bared his teeth, enjoying the tightness of the fabric as he grew harder still. 

It became too much for him and soon McCree found his hands pulling down the zipper. He stopped his movements, raised his face to her and smirked. That morning, he figured since he was going to be filming a porno, he might as well keep in the spirit of things and go commando. He saw her mouth open slightly when he revealed not the band of underwear he wasn’t wearing, but a flash of skin, covered in dark hair.

Even though it was agonising, he was slow in freeing himself. In his mind, he forgot the camera and focused on the woman behind it. It was a show for her, his would-be lover, making her wait to see what she’d only seen through a somewhat blurry photo. When he finally did give her what she wanted, she wasn’t disappointed. He heard her faint “fuck me” and chuckled.

He wasn’t a small man, coming out somewhere around eight inches. He was thick, pleasurably so if his previous partners had been honest and he thought they had been, and intact. There was a decent amount of fuzz to him too, if his chest hair hadn’t already clued her in, but he kept himself neat. He looked at her again as he lazily stroked himself, heard her breath hitch and saw her breasts jiggle. She liked what she saw and it urged him on.

His head rolled back as he finally fisted himself, letting a moan escape his lips. He bit them playfully as he felt himself react to the stimulation. It could be over quickly if he wanted it to be, he was close already, in between her teasing and his own arousal. The contract had said he’d be starring in a ten minute flick, so why not make it interesting?

His left hand started to join his right, roaming down his chest to his abs and below, skirting around the base of his shaft to go further. Fingers tracing the inside of his thigh, they came back around to cup his balls, feeling their weight in his palm as he lightly tugged on them. Then his hands switched as the right one came back up his torso. Using a bit of spit as lube, he palmed the head of his cock as his other hand made short strokes. The added sensations made him spasm briefly, muscles bunching reflexively. From across the room Mei swore again.

He picked up the pace, long and fast, with both hands only stop suddenly when he got to close. Panting as sweat started to run down his body, he thumbed his cock, letting it slap against his abs loudly. “You want me to continue?” he asked suddenly, looking straight into the camera, talking to the person watching him.

She squirmed, thighs rubbing together as she took a few steps closer, lens adjusting the focus. He could see she was just as turned on as he was. “Alright then, but just because you asked so nicely, darlin’,” he continued, answering as if someone had begged him.

One hand went back to his shaft, working it over with quick stroke, half-turning every time he came back to the head. By now he wasn’t holding back any, he breathing was loud and his moans were coming in fast and hot. Drawing near orgasm again, he brought a hand up to his chest, pawing at himself as his ecstasy grew.

He pumped harder and faster, pinching his nipple intermittently, head thrown back as he lost himself to the feeling. His orgasm started building up at the base of his spine, going down his legs and up to his throat, expanding outwards. Slick with sweat, he grunted with exertion, glaring down at himself, wanting the release, yet staving it off for a few moments longer. It was going to be big, bigger than anything he’d had in past few years and he wanted to relish it.

Straining at the limit, he let himself go with a low groan of satisfaction. His fisted himself almost painfully as his orgasm washed over him. Dick jerking in his hand, it released rope after rope across his chest, going as far as the hollow of his throat, leaving warm, sticky streaks across his body. After the longest release of his recent memory, he gave one last spurt, running down the junction of his thigh and pooling on the couch.

Lost for the moment, he panted heavily, hands dropping to his side as he basked in the afterglow of his orgasm. He raised his head, lifted his hat slightly to stare at the woman awkwardly trying to keep the camera steady and grinned, tossing the camera a devilish wink. 

Lowering the camera, breasts heaving, she was quiet. “Enjoy yourself?” McCree asked and she blushed further.

“You’ll have to excuse me, I don’t usually react that way,” she murmured, looking at the floor. He laughed in between gasps for air, trying to sit up while his legs still felt like Jell-O. 

It took several minutes, but he eventually got his wits back and started cleaning up. She gave him a towel, which he used gratefully to wipe himself down. Camera in hand, Mei dropped it on the desk and pulled her blouse on, half buttoned as she sat down shakily. Once he had his dick back in his pants, McCree sauntered over.

She kept an eye on him while he took his time getting dressed. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was always this… charged after a shoot, or if it was just her. It wasn’t like he was expecting a pat on the ass and a job well done. Still, it was weird. He finished dressing and waited for her speak. 

“Everything alright down there, miss?” he asked, trying for humour. She looked up at him then, eyes searching him questioningly before she relaxed.

“I’m fine, just… collecting myself,” she answered. When she didn’t elaborate, he pressed forward.

“So is that it then?”

She patted the camera and smiled. “I’ve got enough footage here to make a really good video. The video editor has their work cut out for them.” Pressing a button on the intercom, she called for the cameraman.

Lúcio came into the room warily, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. “Is my baby OK?”  
“Here, take this to Hana,” Mei said instead. “Tell her to get it down to ten. And, fix some of the audio.” He looked at her sceptically, eyes narrowed as he took in her appearance before cracking a wide grin. 

“Not a word Lúcio, not one word,” she warned.

Mouth shut, he turned heel and left, leaving the two of them alone again, eyebrows raised high as he shot McCree a thumbs-up. Mei muttered something under her breath and turned her gaze back to McCree. “Right, about your pay.”

“If you’d be so kind,” he said cheerfully. She reached into a drawer, pulled out a check book and wrote off his beloved four figures. Tearing it out, she handed it over to him, but when he took it, she still held on. He eyed her cautiously as she deliberated.

“What do think about doing this with a partner?”


End file.
